


Cry Wolf

by ArgentSleeper



Series: Episode AUs [14]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Episode: s04e11 The Hunter's Heart, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 17:16:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7723039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentSleeper/pseuds/ArgentSleeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin knew Arthur's trust wouldn't be unlimited, but he wished it hadn't run out now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cry Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate series 4 where Lancelot isn't dead because he didn't deserve that. Takes place in the episode "The Hunter's Heart", directly after Merlin accuses Agravaine of stealing the plans for the siege tunnels.
> 
> Note: Non-con is only implied, and is not between A/M. However, please read at your own caution if the subject may trigger you.

 

“Ah, Merlin, could I have a word?”

Merlin glanced at Arthur, hoping in vain that he would deny Agravaine’s request. Arthur just waved a hand in dismissal, the narrowing of his eyes giving a clear message: _behave._

Merlin fought back the urge to snap _I will if he does_.  He actually rather hoped Agravaine wouldn't keep up his smarmy mask once they were alone. By now it was no secret to either of them whose sides they were on.

“Of course, my lord.”

Agravaine grinned broadly and reached forward to lead him away. Merlin snatched his arm out of reach, ignoring the way Arthur grit his teeth in warning. Agravaine just shrugged and set off through the corridors, forcing Merlin to follow along behind him.  Neither of them said a word as they walked, Agravaine simply waving Merlin into his chambers and locking the door behind them.

“That was a rather foolish thing to do, wasn't it, Merlin? Did you really think you had a chance to turn my own nephew against me?”

So Merlin was to get his wish. “About as much chance as for you to turn against your own nephew.”

Agravaine's face twisted viciously. “That boy is not my sister’s son. He stole her from me. If not for him and the bastard who cursed him into being, Igraine would still be alive.”

“That wasn't Arthur's fault.”

“Perhaps not. But he has done nothing to hint he is any different than his father.”  The anger faded slightly into a sly smile. “Why, just look at how he treats his closest ally. Tell me, Merlin, where will you go once Arthur exiles you?  To join young Guinevere perhaps?”

Merlin balled his hands into fists, barely containing his urge to throw a lightning bolt at the condescending prick.  “But he checked, didn't he?  Arthur could have dismissed me out of hand, but he _checked,_ because he trusted that I wouldn't lie to him more than he trusted your loyalty.” 

Agravaine flinched slightly, clearly not having taken that into consideration, but he recovered quickly, smirk growing.  “But you won't be so trusted next time, will you?  Not anymore. Why, I could probably tell Arthur anything about you besmirching my name and he'd have no reason now to think it false.” He took a step, closing the distance between them. “But if you were to mention so much as an ill word against me, you'd be out on the streets. And then where would Arthur be without his staunch protector?”

“You _will not touch him_ ,” Merlin growled.

Agravaine chuckled darkly. “Oh no. Not him.”  Before Merlin could sense the movement to stop it there was a hand pressing against his lower region. “We don't have to be enemies, Merlin. I could make things quite pleasant for you.”

Merlin recoiled. “Go to hell.”

Agravaine just shrugged. “That's fine. They'll still be pleasant for me.”

Merlin was too stunned with rage to see the leg sweep out, tripping him and sending him to the floor. He rolled and stumbled back to his feet, only to be thrown into the wall.  His head hit stone, and flashes of lights appeared in his eyes. Blindly he swiped a hand out, gratified when his nails gouged into flesh. Agravaine let out a hiss of pain, but it slowed him only for a moment. He grabbed Merlin by the neckerchief, twisting the fabric until it cut off Merlin's air.

Merlin tried to reach for his magic, willing it to do something, anything to throw the larger man off of him, but it kept slipping out of his grasp. He couldn't concentrate, and the dwindling amount of oxygen wasn't helping matters. Eventually he felt himself being moved, and then the air was back. Desperately Merlin sucked in cool lung-fulls through his burning throat. His wrists were caught in strong vices and being yanked above his head, and he tried to kick out instead, but the lack of air had sapped his strength, and he could only manage a few feeble attempts. Something tightened around his arms, and Merlin blinked his vision back enough to see he was still on the floor and now tied to one of the bedposts.

Agravaine stood over him, sneering. He ran a finger down Merlin's cheek, chuckling when Merlin growled in warning. “How does it feel to be powerless, Merlin?  To be under the control of someone you loathe?”

“You won't get away with this. Arthur will notice if I don't show up tonight.”

“Then show up. I don't mean to keep you here, Merlin. You're free to leave, you're even free to tell Arthur what happened. If you think he'll believe you.”  Agravaine leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “And when he doesn't, you’ll be forced to pack your things and go. Because you know he won't. You've cried wolf too many times, boy.” 

Later Merlin would blame the preoccupation with his heart breaking for why he didn't even try to fight back as Agravaine pulled his trousers open and reached inside.

 

* * *

 

 

Merlin got another servant to serve Arthur and Mithian their dinner. The king would be angry, and probably blame Merlin for being petty after their argument earlier, but he couldn't face anyone right then.

He retreated instead to his room, breathing a sigh of relief that Gaius wasn't in right then. His guardian’s sympathy would be too much to deal with.  Merlin stripped his clothes and washed with shaking hands. He scrubbed until his skin was raw and bleeding, but the feeling of slime sticking to him still lingered. He bandaged what he could and arranged his clothing to cover the rest. Luckily the fall weather meant it the long sleeves covering his bruised wrists wouldn't be seen as out of place.  He laid on his bed until someone came to fetch him, Arthur's patience having run out.

Arthur sat at the foot of his bed, staring blankly at the wall and twirling his ring like he always did when he was thinking. At one time Merlin might have dared to hope he was considering the possible truth of Merlin's accusations, but not now.  That was a hope for a different Arthur. A different Merlin.

“There are so few people in this world I can trust,” Arthur said, not turning to look at him. “So many I care about but only a mere handful I can be sure of.  To lose one...”

A closer look revealed it wasn't Arthur's ring toyed with, but the one he gave to Gwen. Of course, it was. “Gwen loved you, sire. She would do anything for you and this kingdom.”  Including risk her life to bring news of a siege by Morgana.

Arthur sighed. “Guinevere would have made an excellent queen. I regret having to send her away. But as much as it pained us both, I believe it to be the right decision. What happened… It was merely a final sign we could not ignore.”

“Mithian will be an excellent queen as well.”

“I'm sure she will. But should she be that for me?” 

Merlin kept his face carefully blank. “That's not for me to say, my lord.”

Arthur finally turned to look at him. “Merlin, I know we've disagreed these past few days. I know you dislike my uncle for whatever reason, but I need you to get past that. What you did today could have had disastrous consequences, for both of us. If Agravaine knew the details of the accusations you made, he would be well within his rights to have you whipped for your disrespect.”

“You would have let him whip me?” Merlin choked out.

“I- gods, Merlin, I'm telling you I wouldn't have a choice. To falsely accuse a noble of treason- If my father was alive he would have had you _killed_ for it!  So please, I don't want to hear another word against Agravaine. Please.”

Merlin wavered where he stood. His entire body ached from the abuse inflicted upon it a mere hour before. If he stretched his arms out just a little he would he able to see the purple mottling on his wrists. His head still pounded where it had hit the wall.

_Tell him… If you think he'll believe you._

“If you need nothing else, sire, Gaius has some tasks for me to complete before I retire.”

Arthur’s shoulders slumped. “Of course. Go. I can ready myself for bed.  I need to pay someone a visit first.”

Merlin left without bidding his king goodnight.  Instead of returning to Gaius, he wandered the halls until he found himself in another part of the castle and stood outside one of the rooms, taking a few deep breaths to calm his aching heart.  Then he stepped forward and knocked.

 

* * *

 

 

“Good morning, sire.” 

Arthur’s face was drawn, the dark circles under his eyes hinting he hadn't slept a wink last night. Merlin didn't even flinch at the sight, stiffly going through the motions of readying his king like a wooden puppet. He hadn't slept much himself. His body hurt even worse than yesterday, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart as he stood before Arthur while he ate his breakfast.

“Sire, I have a request to make.”

Arthur continued picking listlessly at his bread. “Yes, what is it, Merlin?”

“I wish to accompany Princess Mithian on her return to Nemeth.”

That caught his attention. “What for?  She has her own servants to tend her on the road, I doubt you'll be of any use.  Besides it will take two full days to travel there, and then another two to get back.”

“No it won't, sire, because I won't be coming back.”

The bread dropped out of Arthur's hand. “Not coming- Is this about what I said yesterday?  Don't be ridiculous, Merlin, I never really meant to exile you. I was angry, and you were trying my patience.”

“I want to leave, sire.”

“Well I don't bloody give you permission!”  Arthur stood, pulling himself up to his full height to stare Merlin down. Anyone else would have only been able to see the anger in his eyes, but Merlin could make out the fear, the hurt.  Once that would have mattered, but it couldn't now.

“I have to go,” he repeated softly. “I already asked Mithian; I don't need your blessing.”

“Yes, you do!” Arthur thundered, a hint of panic threaded in his voice. “You're my manservant, not hers!  And I'm your king, you can't leave unless I say you can!  So sit right down in that chair, because you aren't allowed to leave even this room until you tell me why you suddenly want to abandon Camelot.”

“I don't feel safe here anymore.”

That froze Arthur where he stood.  “Merlin… there's nowhere safer for you than by my side. You're my servant. No one would ever dare hurt you while you're under my protection.”

Merlin lowered his gaze. He needed to get out of here before his resolve broke. Before Arthur asked him a question he didn't want the answer to.

“I'll be under Mithian’s protection now.”  He turned to leave.

“Merlin!” Arthur charged forward and barred his way to the door. “Who can she possibly protect you from that I can't?  Has someone been threatening you?  Tell me, I command you as your king!”

Merlin pressed his lips together. Did it matter if he said?  Arthur couldn't exile him from Nemeth too, could he?  But no, no matter how much he hurt he couldn't leave with Arthur hating him.

Merlin made to step around him, reaching for the door handle. Arthur was quicker, snaking a hand out to grip his wrist tight. Merlin hissed in pain, trying to pull his arm back, but Arthur refused to let go.

The king’s eyes narrowed at Merlin's reaction, and sensing victory, he brought Merlin’s wrist up in front of his eyes. Merlin’s sleeve slipped down, revealing the red and purple marks.

Arthur was livid. “Who did this to you?  Who?  Tell me!”

“I can't.”  Merlin's voice cracked, and now he _really_  needed to leave before the tears he hadn't yet let fall this entire ordeal escaped.

Arthur seemed to sense that his anger wasn't helping and switched tactics, gentling to the same tone he used on victims of bandits and raiders. “Why not?”

He couldn't do it.  He closed his eyes. “Because you don't want to hear another word against him.”

There was silence. The grip on his wrist lessened and Merlin was able to pull it free. Keeping his head bowed so he wouldn't have to see the look of disgust on Arthur's face, Merlin opened his eyes to make his way from the room.

“Goodbye, Arthur.”

He reached for the doorknob again, but this time he was stopped by a pair of arms wrapping around him and pulling him tight to Arthur's chest.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Merlin.”  Arthur cradled him gently, as if afraid he might break him. 

Merlin didn't move to return the embrace, but he didn't pull away either. “You believe me?”

Arthur held him out at arm's length to look him in the eye. Or at least he tried. Merlin refused to look up, not daring to see proof this was all a dream. Arthur reached for his chin to drag tilt his head up, but Merlin automatically flinched away.

Arthur dropped his hands entirely. “This is my fault. You told me something was wrong. I was supposed to protect you, and I didn't.”

“Arthur…” Habit made Merlin want to deny it, to comfort Arthur and tell him it wasn't his fault, but this time he didn't quite believe it himself.  “Can I go now?”

“You- you still want to leave?”

_I never wanted to leave._ “Yes. I can't- I just _can’t_.  Please let me go.”

“He won't ever go near you again, I swear it.  You can leave whenever he's in the room, and I'll make sure he's never on patrol with us. I'll do anything you want, just please don't leave me,” Arthur begged.

“You really believe me?”  Merlin repeated. “Even if he denies it?  If he says I wanted it?”

“Merlin,” he said gently, “no one ever _wants_ to be beaten.”

Merlin wanted to curl into himself and disappear, but he forced himself to say it.  “He didn't just beat me.”

Silence once more, but this time Merlin could feel the anger rolling off Arthur in thick waves. “Merlin.  Did my uncle use you against your will?”

He nodded miserably.

“Stay here. If I come back to find you gone I will go to Nemeth and drag you home kicking and screaming.”

Merlin collapsed in a chair as Arthur stormed out of the room. Arthur believed him. Arthur wasn't going to send him away. Arthur _believed him_.

The past 24 hours caught up to him in a crashing tumble, and Merlin couldn't keep it in anymore, dropping his head down to the table and sobbing. He let everything pour out, his physical aches and mental torment. All the stress flooded from his body in a mess of tears, taking all his energy with it.

He didn't know when he fell asleep, only that next he knew he was waking up in Arthur's bed, the king sitting at his desk watching him thoughtfully.  Merlin sat up, wincing as his wounds reminded him a good cry could only heal so much. Arthur made no move towards him.

“Mithian left a few hours ago. She accepts your regrets that you decided not to join her. Agravaine is in the cells awaiting judgement.  All that's left is for you to tell me how you could possibly think I wouldn't take your side on this.”

“You said you didn't want to hear it.”

“I didn't want you accusing my uncle of treason without proof, Merlin!  That's not the same thing as hiding the fact that he-” he cut himself off, swallowing hard to collect himself. “You are the person I trust most in this world. How am I supposed to have faith in anyone if even you start lying to me?”

Merlin ducked his head. He didn't need the reminder that by that criteria he was the person Arthur should trust least. “I couldn't- If you hadn't listened to me I- I could bare you to reject me over anything else, sire, but not about this.  It was better to leave than have you send me away.”

“I could never send you away,” Arthur said softly.  Clearly fearing that showed too much unkingly emotion he continued, “Not least because up until now I thought I wouldn't be able to stop you from coming back.”

“You sent Gwen away,” Merlin couldn't help but point out, “and you love her. You barely tolerate me.”

Arthur shook his head, giving Merlin one of his patented _Merlin you idiot_ stares. “I did love Guinevere, and yes, I did officially exile her. But she chose to leave on her own, her and Lancelot. I gave them my blessing, but I could hardly make that public knowledge. Because I made a promise years ago, Merlin. That promise was the reason I let Gwen go and why Mithian is returning home, despite the loss of Gedref. I swore that when I married it would be for love. Not just the love of a friend, but deeper, purer.  The kind of love I have for you.”

Merlin didn't know what to say to that. His brain was spinning from sensory overload, and his body begged him to pass out once again. Arthur was staring at him with a hopeful look that was quickly fading to disappointment as his unasked question went unanswered. All Merlin knew was… he didn't exactly want to say no.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?”  He managed to quirk the corner of his mouth up in a sign perhaps all wasn’t lost.

Arthur smiled softly back.  “Whenever you’re ready.  I promise to listen.”

 


End file.
